To Belong
by SnapesYukuai
Summary: Getting beaten badly at the hands of his dear cousin Victor doesn't keep Renard from warning the boys of the danger they are in. On the other hand, Renard being Renard doesn't keep Nick and Monroe from bestowing all their care on the battered zauberbiest. fluff, Renard whump, Nickroe romance, Nick & Monroe & Renard friendship, Sequel to 'Blankets And Their Pack Building Properties'


Sequel to 'Blankets And Their Pack Building Properties'. The boys have their hands full.

Enjoy!

To Belong:

 _I need to warn Nick._

Sean limps up the porch to the front door. Every step, every movement hurts. His vision starts to gray around the edges.

 _Pull yourself together! You've been through worse and you need to warn him!_

Calling Nick on his cell has yielded nothing, only voice mail there, same goes for Hank. So it is the blutbad's home – currently home of both Monroe and his fiance, who happens to be none other than Nick Burkhardt.

He rings the doorbell and waits, tense and poised for a fight, adrenaline the only thing to keep him going. The reason for all this – his state and his mission – is his cousin, Prince Victor.

 _Oh how much I hate that man!_

While he waits for the door to open – this may taking only a moment or an eternity for all he can perceive – he thinks back to the last hours:

Victor, about five of his henchmen, accusations and questions about Eric's death...

warnings from his father, a point being made – painfully, slowly, imprinted on every inch of his body.

It hasn't mattered that they've had nothing to pin on him guilt wise... well, it has in a way. If his father had any proof of his guilt this would not have been a painful lesson but his execution.

Still.

 _Nick is in danger as long as he doesn't know about Victor's schemes..._

Pain wells up, doesn't want to relent in any way. He squeezes his eyes shut and pulls together every last ounce of self-control.

 _Stay awake, stay alert, show no pain._

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Grumbling Monroe gets up from the couch to get the door. He's just been about to drift off when someone thought it funny to disturb his midday nap by ringing the doorbell.

 _Yes, nap… the things this impossible, which probably is to say beloved Grimm pushes me to do! If that man wouldn't keep me up at all hours of the night - to do enjoyable things, one has to admit - I wouldn't need to sleep now._

He opens the door and for a moment he can only gape! There's the Captain standing on his doorstep, which is peculiar enough on its own, but much worse is the man's appearance.

"Umm, Captain Renard... you... no offense but you look terrible."

And honestly, he does! Monroe has never thought he would see him sickly pale, he has the natural tan of a Greek God after all, but here he is: Pale, nearly gray, fine sheen of sweat on his brow, looking battered and beaten. There are bruises everywhere! And scratches and slashes and a whole lot more.

What worries him most, though, is that always unflappable, immaculate Captain Sean Renard is half slumped against the door frame and just about holding on it seems.

"Is Nick here? I cannot reach him on his cell."

The normally smooth drawl is a raw and tired sound that makes Monroe's sensitive ears hurt. Upon inhaling then he is assaulted by the cloying smell of blood… Renard's blood. This is not good!

"No, he's out on a case... but shouldn't you know this... as his Captain, I mean?"

"I have been... otherwise occupied."

"I bet."

It gets him a glare from the man. Amazing, really, that he can still do that in his state.

"Nick said he would turn off his cell today... something to do with security measures of the company they are questioning."

„I… need to warn him… about Prince Victor."

The zauberbiest tries to focus and pin him with his usual intense gaze. He fails and when he makes to step away from the door frame he sways heavily.

„Woah! I think you need to sit down before you fall over. I can smell a whole lot of blood on you and most of it is yours. This isn't a good combination, if you ask me."

„I don't need to sit, I need to reach Nick."

It seems to be his single focus… and about the only thing keeping him on his feet.

„Is Nick in immanent danger?"

It takes Renard inordinately long to process this.

„No."

„Good. Come on in then."

He takes the huge man by his upper arms and pulls him inside. That Renard lets it happen at all speaks volumes about his state. The Prince opens his mouth to protest but as it is the world spins off kilter the instant he takes a step forward and any words die on his lips. He is caught by the blutbad, weight supported although it has the smaller man staggering.

"Woah, do you know that you are huge and heavy?"

Even while his body gives out on him, his mind does not. He grumbles under his breath as he tries to get his feet back under him, which is much more difficult than it should be.

"What do you expect when seeing a man of 6ft 4' and my build?"

"You have a point there."

Somehow the blutbad manages to lead him inside and to the couch where he is pushed down to sit. He is in no state to fight this. Simply staying conscious takes up all his energy. The couch dips beside him. The blutbad's scent reaches his nostrils. He needs to find Nick. His body jerks minutely trying to get up to do just that.

 _I need to…._

Hands are on his shoulders halting a movement he isn't able to execute, anyway.

„Hey, easy, man." Monroe's words are soft now, soothing and incredibly worried. He cannot place that feeling.

 _Is he worried about Nick? He should be._

„I know how to contact Nick. I'll do so right away. You just sit here and let me do that. I'll tell him to be careful when he comes here."

With a last glance at the Captain Monroe slips from the room to contact Nick, who's left him with the company's number in case of an emergency.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

„Hey, Monroe."

„Hey, love. Umm. We have a house guest tonight …"

„Okay, yeah. House guest sounds good. Who is it?"

„Your Captain. But we have a whole lot of problems… and I think you need to come home... umm... _right now_."

„What's happened? Are you alright?"

The deep worry in his tone warms Monroe but he hurries to reassure him.

„Oh no, I'm alright. But your Captain isn't. He's just appeared on our doorstep looking like death warmed over and saying cryptic things about needing to warn you. It's something about that Prince Victor guy, so you be careful when you come here! Do you hear me, Mr. Grimm? No dangerous maneuvers!"

„Renard? Okay, I'm on my way. Does he need to go to hospital? In what way is he injured?"

„Beaten up... and here I mean badly beaten up. As for the other part, I'm not 100% sure but I would say we are equipped well enough to take care of him."

„Good. Do for him what you can, I'll come home as soon as I can."

"Okay, brat, just be careful."

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Upon returning Monroe finds Renard slumped on the couch unconscious. He tries calling him, even shakes him gently but there's nothing to be done.

 _Okay, man, just don't freak out now. You patch up your thickheaded Grimm all the time. So first things first: Undress him partway to gauge the damage, then see what you can do._

Carefully unbuttoning and peeling away the sullied dress shirt reveals more bruises and - if Monroe is right - the reason for the Prince's faint: Some of those slash wounds definitely look like the claws causing them have been poisonous.

 _Damn it! This is just what we need. At least I'm relatively sure what poison it is. No wonder he looks as bad as he does. Not that those bruises alone aren't enough to put a man down, but Renard being the tough guy he is there just had to be more._

With some difficulty he manages to stretch him out on the couch. He has never thought he would feel that way but he's mightily worried about him.

Monroe is no fool. From the few tidbits the Captain has told him and the facts he already knows about his family he's made up a fairly good theory on what has happened.

King Frederic cannot have been impressed with his son's actions. Neither his continued protection of the Grimm nor his suspected involvement in his half-brother's death. An example has been made, as warning for his mate and for Renard himself… and what an example that has been. He growls low in his throat as he looks down upon the broken 'biest. Fierce protectiveness asserts itself and won't leave. Monroe sighs. This is an instinctual thing. A pack thing.

Renard for his part is restless. Eyes move behind closed eyelids and from time to time he can hear him murmuring. What's more, he's murmuring about warning his Grimm… even now. When he patches up the worst looking wounds to stop the bleeding until Nick arrives Renard flinches and moans lowly now that his iron self-control is out of game.

Keys jingle and the front door opens.

 _Thank God, Nick is finally home._

His beloved comes up behind him, enveloping him in a brief, fierce hug even while he gasps in shock at the state of his Captain. His scent changes at once, telling Monroe of outrage, worry and the same protective streak that he has felt at the sight of Sean lying there.

„Who has done this?"

There's an edge of steel to his voice, the Grimm and the Cop coming to the forefront, demanding answers.

„Cousin Victor I would say." Monroe answers in a growl and Nick knows without seeing his mate, that his eyes are glowing scarlet. Both listen in dismay to frantic murmurs, testament of what is tormenting this normally distanced and calculating man.

„These claw marks are poisoned. We need to treat them first... draw out poison and stuff. Most likely his imagination is adding quite a few horrors to what he worries about anyway."

Nick is kneeling beside him now, looking down upon Renard and coming to a decision.

„Okay. We'll carry him upstairs to our bedroom - more space to maneuver there - and then we see about helping him."

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Sean is laid out on their bed, undressed to his boxers, still unconscious and still in some dark place, where the horrors of his mind assault him. Nick kneels on one side of the bed while Monroe sits on the edge of the other side, ladling up a minty green paste on a stretch of linen cloth.

"What can I do to help?" Monroe looks up from his work to his beloved Grimm. The shadow of a wry grin appears on his scruffy face.

"Make sure Renard doesn't punch me when he wakes while I treat his injuries and while you're at it, press this onto the wound on his chest. It's one of the poisoned ones.

He hands him the first balm laden cloth. Nick eyes it with skepticism.

"And this stuff will draw out poison?"

"This _stuff_ draws out most of common poisons."

"It certainly looks like bezoar mixed with mint tooth paste."

Monroe heaves a sigh while he watches his infuriating lover put the compress onto the wound.

"If I had known that giving you those Harry Potter books would have such consequences I would have hidden them."

He mutters this under his breath but stops short when Renard moans lowly and twists in pain. Nick's gaze strays to him, asking a silent question.

"It hurts but it is necessary. We need to cover the other two as well."

His Grimm nods and goes about the task with iron determination that hides a myriad of so much deeper emotions beneath. Even Monroe feels his heart and gut clench at the low pitiful sounds Sean is emitting. And he's looking even worse than before:

Body sweat soaked, sleep tormented by visions of God knows what, and with violent shivers wracking his body.

He knows his big-hearted Grimm is also hurting for the battered zauberbiest. He is reaching out towards him - emotionally at least - even while his hand hesitates to initiate skin contact. It is not out of revulsion but insecurity. Nick's relationship with his Captain is rather close these days but Renard is still a reclusive, proud and independent man. His beloved is not afraid to touch but afraid to presume and make him feel uncomfortable even now that he is unconscious.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Nick watches his Captain. He is battered, beaten and caught up in some dark poison induced nightmare. Every time Monroe washes out a wound or treats a bruise Renard flinches away and every time this happens Nick inwardly jerks as well. Renard is still emitting low tormented sounds from time to time and the longer he watches him the stronger grows his worry. A shiver runs down his back. Suddenly he knows what is vexing the zauberbiest... or at least he thinks he does.

"Monroe, his mind is playing tricks on him. I think... in his mind he's still there with his fucking sick cousin."

At first Nick's voice is steady enough but at the end it cracks and with it nearly cracks Monroe's heart.

"I know, love. It will soon get better. The poison is already weakening."

Nick nods but his eyes won't leave the man on their bed for a single moment.

He knows why Nick is so shaken by this. Hell, he himself is feeling for Renard but his beloved Grimm... he can relate.

When he looks up now he can see it all in stormy gray eyes. They are haunted by memories and liquid with shared pain:

All those months ago, before Lord Samedi has turned him into a zombie, before the plane crashed and they've managed to change him back, Eric and his henchmen have tried a different tack. A few days before all hell has broken loose they have held him in some dark place. They have tried to tame the Grimm instead of turning him. He has been lucky in a way. Prince Eric, the sick bastard, thought it wouldn't do to damage his toy too much. But it had still been bad and in the end, when all else has failed, they have zombified him.

His Grimmlet may not be aware of it but his hand hovers near Renard's shoulder, itching to touch, to reassure and sooth away pain. He smells of both the predatory urge to put down the one that hurt his Captain and bone deep worry.

"Come on, dude, try it."

Nick looks up at his soft words, surprised and seeking approval for what he's about to do at the same time.

"Do it, love. I know from experience how good you are at comforting rubs. I'm sure it will help him."

Relief floods his features, overriding worry and protectiveness momentarily.

And completely unexpected Monroe finds those instincts reciprocated within himself. No words are needed for him to understand. He nods with empathy. They need to help him. They need to reassure Sean in a way his hazy mind can take in.

Nick scoots up on the bed to his Prince until his knees are touching a muscular shoulder before reaching out slowly to run his fingers trough short cropped, sweat matted hair. When at first contact he twitches as if to shy away Nick halts the motion only to have an encouraging grunt from his blutbad prod him into going on. At first his touch is hesitant, feather light, and he holds his breath, then Sean begins to respond. Slowly, oh so slowly he begins to unwind. He continues to stroke his hair and over pale skin, gently and mindful of his injuries.

„Why don't you scoot up behind him? Will help me to bandage his chest when you hold him up and it will satisfy your need to fuss over him."

Monroe's eyes dance with fond exasperation now.

"As far as I know fussing is your part, Mr. Grumpy-big-heart."

His tone is teasing but his voice is raw with emotion.

"Not funny. I'll remind you the next time you want to have a sick time cuddle."

"Hey, I'm not complaining, just stating facts... And you sure? I mean..."

"Yes, I'm sure, Grimmlet brat. He's let himself get bashed up to protect you! So he's pack, right?"

"So you think, too, that he did it on purpose?"

While they talk Nick suits actions to words and slides up behind their fallen zauberbiest with Monroe's help.

"Yeah... I think I do. Is a bit hard to wrap my mind around it – I mean, he's more the underhanded schemes kind of guy – but yeah. And that... that definitely makes him pack."

"Yes, it does. And he's ours to take care of now."

When finally he is cradled securely to Nick's chest the blutbad continues his work and treats claw marks with disinfectant and healing salve now that their compresses have drawn out all poison.

At times Renard still jerks in his sleep or grunts in pain but ever since Nick has started embracing and caressing him something in him seems to have settled. When at some point the huge, magnificent zauberbiest turns his head just slightly to bury his face into the crook of Nick's neck blutbad and Grimm exchange a glance and the ghost of a smile.

Had someone asked him before, Monroe would have thought he would feel jealousy at that. Peculiarly he doesn't. On the contrary, the urge to wrap them both in a tight hug to protect and soothe away their worries is nearly overwhelming!

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Sean comes awake in a heavy fog of pain and dizziness, and to sensations he cannot place. Instantly he panics, mind jumping back to hours ago when Victor's men have driven home the message from his father. A strangled cry escapes before he's aware enough to bite down on it and he tries moving away from whoever is touching him.

Those arms, though, are having none of it. Incredibly gentle and yet stronger than him, stronger than a normal human should be they cradle and restrain him.

„Shhh. You are safe. Easy... Don't move... It will only hurt you. You are safe…."

A warm hand cards through his hair and strokes over his forehead while soft murmurs continue. He cannot place the voice but even a zauberbiest possesses a sufficiently developed sense of smell to take up the scents around him.

 _Blutbad and Grimm. Monroe and Nick… safety… but why am I in his arms… why…?_

Sensations take over. Whatever has caused spikes of pain has paused for the moment and left are only the most gentle, soothing ministrations of one Grimm cradling him to his chest… to a steadily beating heart… keeping him safe and immobile at the same time. He feels like shit, weak, dizzy, riddled by pain, but those hands on his brow and in his hair make it better. He's in no state to resist.

The other scent draws nearer and an instant later his sweat dotted face is carefully wiped with a damp cloth.

„It's Monroe and I, Nick. We're patching you up right now but that will hurt at times. Monroe has some remedy for you, though. It will take off the worst edge."

 _No. Need to talk to him. Need to warn him._

Sean shakes his head even as violent shivers shake his body. He's already slipping again. He needs to warn them.

"Cousin... my cousin... wants to hurt... you are a thorn in my... father's side. You need to be..."

New waves of pain cut off his words and leave him gasping helplessly. He is shifted slightly, held through the pain while a large warm hand – Monroe's hand, he somehow knows - is rubbing small, soothing circles on his back.

"Don't worry. I know now how to handle Victor. You might be restrained in your actions against your family but I am not. I won't let them hurt my family and friends or me... and I will make sure he won't hurt you again. You've let yourself get beaten up today just to protect me, Sean Renard, I think I'm entitled to return the favor."

That voice is strong and calming. This is not only his subordinate, the good-natured Detective. This is a predator, a protector. It makes him feel safe while at the same time his pride and need for independence make themselves known and urge him to fight the soothing presence.

"… Can take care of myself."

"I know. But what about the next time you decide that sending your battered body as a warning is much better than Victor sending people to hurt us in person? That's what you thought, wasn't it? I know, should you have wanted to overpower Victor's men you would have been able to. But you didn't want to, because taking the damage yourself meant Victor wouldn't send his men to me."

"Nick's right. Now that you've warned us we know what we're facing and can react. What we need to do now is making sure you get well again as quickly as possible. Honestly, we're good for now but in the long run we need your head for strategy, if we want to outwit your crazy family."

The clock maker and his mate must have exchanged glances that have gone literally over his head because there are no further words spoken before Nick helps him sit up straighter and Monroe brings over a mug with something strong smelling.

 _Breadseed Poppy, Peppermint, among others… Pain relieving, sleep inducing, relaxing…._

Above all hexen- and zauberbiests have a keen sense of smell where zaubertrank ingredients are involved.

Despite knowing that it will do him no harm his mind tells Sean to refuse in order to stay alert in case of danger but in the end his instincts make the decision for him.

At first he turns his head away as the mug nears his mouth, but Nick's soothing voice is in his ear, and something inside him cannot help reacting to it. He swallows the liquid in laborious gulps and soon after starts drifting into a state between waking and sleeping. He hurts less and some tension leaves his body. Instinctively he melts against Nick's firm, warm body.

He's still aware of things on some level, maybe even more aware of certain sensations than before. At first his nose takes up spicy, earthen scents. He recognizes those as bathing oils even though their purpose still eludes him. It's got to do something with Monroe. Blutbaden are known to have an affinity for natural scents of the forest.

First there's tinkling of water and then they are gently washing him; damp cloths stroking over his skin and warm hands rubbing tension out of sore, tense muscles.

Those actions are simple and comforting and like nothing Sean has ever experienced before. Not with his mother... at least not like this, never at the hands of his royal family and even in later years he's been a one-man-island, pulling puppet strings from a distance to keep himself from harm and the need for protection.

 _The Grimm has changed me. I've put myself heedlessly in danger…._

Again common sense tells him to draw back, to analyze dangers and possible tricks but just as strongly pure instinct urges him to accept that feeling of comfort. It is a primal thing. The safety of a pack. He struggles only briefly before he gives himself over to his wesen side, floating on sensations that speak of care and empathy.

By the time Monroe starts massaging in a balm to treat the myriad of bruises he's already slipped off into a deep sleep.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

"Just so we are clear, did we just adopt a pet zauberbiest into our pack, who happens to be a damn powerful Bastard Prince and is more versed in underhanded schemes and politics than you and I can ever hope to be?"

"Jup." Nick seems quite content with the fact, looking down on the sleeping man in the middle of their huge bed before looking back up to his wolverine mate with a fond smile. To his continued surprise Monroe feels his own smile tug at his lips.

"Okay. Good to know. Let's put in some sleep while we can."

Their eyes stay locked with each other for a moment longer, both moving at the same time to share a gentle, loving kiss. They need no words to discuss their next actions. Both have seen what a little care has done for the zauberbiest Prince and both feel the same need to protect.

They change into night clothes first before carefully settling on either side of the sleeping 'biest, spreading their large blanket over the three of them and making sure that they are near enough to him that his primal, instinct ridden side is aware of their presence. Before finally closing his eyes Monroe inhales deeply and is content to smell no distress whatsoever from Renard.

Tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow he will be their bad ass Captain and sovereign Royal once more but tonight he's theirs to take care of.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

When Sean comes awake in the middle of the night it is with a silent gasp from nightmares relived and the feeling that something is not how he's expected it to be. He senses two beings beside him and while his survival trained mind tells to him to fight and distance himself, his 'biest tells him another thing entirely.

 _Fight them... wait, smell them… not the enemy. Still. A tanglement like this makes you vulnerably... it makes you seem weak!_

 _Safety... this is safe... this is comfort... pack._

A growl, deep in the back of his throat, expression of the battle within.

A grunt, a tense moment of indecision, a last huff and exhale.

For once in his life Sean Renard puts his instincts over what his head is telling him. He shifts until his nose and forehead come into contact with a warm side – the blutbad's side, who is snuffling and huffing before settling again with one large hand coming to rest on Renard's shoulder above the blanket.

Sean shifts further. His back comes upon a reassuring line of heat – Nick's side.

For a moment yet he lies there tense and ready to bold but instead of drawing away and rejecting him both men settle around him until all his senses tell him is of a warm and soothing place to rest.

 _This is pack. This is safety... care... freely given._

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Warm sunlight streams through the window when Sean comes around slowly. It must be quite late. Not only because of the light but because he's not feeling half as bad as last time he's been awake. He sits up slowly, repressing a moan at the initial pain, but slowly acclimating to the feeling of being awake and upright again. He is still in the huge bed that can only belong to Nick's and Monroe's master bedroom. Analyzing his feelings about what's happened last night he's astonished to find that he doesn't mind.

 _Peculiar. I wouldn't have thought it would be this… comforting._

His contemplations are cut short when the blutbad passes the half open door only to stop short and make his way into the room. He looks a little uncomfortable but for once Sean hides his smirk. He is the one who's maneuvered Monroe into that situation so he should at least show enough gratitude not to call him out on it.

„Hey, you're awake… okay, yeah, that's obvious I guess as you are sitting up… umm… how are you feeling?"

„Better I would say… thanks to you most likely."

„Uuuh, no problem." The blutbad scratches the back of his head in a surprisingly adorable manner.

„And, sorry, I guess. You took quite a battering just to help us."

Monroe looks guilty now but Sean shakes his head.

„This has happened not solely because of Nick's resistance against the Royals but also because of my half-brother Eric. My father doesn't leave such things unattended. The thought of putting me in my place and sending you a warning appealed to him."

At once the blutbad he knows is restored as he bristles and growls:

"And what a warning should that be? Stay monogamous if you don't have the guts or brains to actually take care of your son?"

Sean finds himself chuckling entirely against his will. It is normally not his way to show this much emotion but he has to admit deep down, that someone calling out his father on his misdeeds makes him feel a tiny bit better.

„I can assure you that it will never come to that… he does not do enough self-reflection to reach such a conclusion."

„Pity. Oh well, one cannot chose his blood relations."

The lopsided grin lighting up the blutbad's face now makes him look less scruffy and much more approachable. The zauberbiest begins to understand what Nick sees in him.

„I'll just go fetch a few things for your injuries."

Before he can protest Monroe is already out of the door.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

„Is it okay, if I apply that salve to your bruises? I would let you do it yourself, but there are areas which you'll find impossible to reach."

Renard doesn't say anything but the raised eyebrow and sharp gaze says it all:

 _We have slept in a bed together! Do you think_ _ **this**_ _will shock me?_

And so with a shrug clearly saying ‚Suit yourself.' Monroe goes about massaging his salve into each and every bruise and contusion there is to find on the zauberbiest's body.

„Oh, and just so you don't wonder: Nick is out investigating with Hank again. He's said something along the lines of ‚His badass Captain would bite off his head if he were to hover around here all of today instead of putting in some work'."

This time Renard doesn't hide his smug and evil smirk at all.

„Good thinking on my Detective's part."

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

By evening they are in the kitchen, Monroe cooking a dinner he insists will give his body everything it needs to heal and Renard sitting at the table.

„Monroe…."

For once the eloquent Prince is lost for words. The blutbad's continued care humbles him but it also makes him uncomfortable in a way that presenting his naked skin could not. He clears his throat.

„Monroe, it really isn't necessary for you to cook me dinner. I've taken more than enough of you and your mate's time already."

He is not prepared for the other man whirling around and nearly impaling his wooden cooking spoon in his forehead when he uses it as an equivalent of a threateningly raised index finger.

„Listen, dude. You say there's no need? Well, let me tell you, there's every need! Frankly I don't care what you do in your spare time - thinking up evil schemes for world domination, most likely - but yesterday you've let someone beat you up just to save my mate - who I am very fond of by the way - so right now you are pack no matter if you want to be or not…!"

„And being pack means getting the whole cooking, fussing and admonishment for risky choices treatment. Believe me, Captain, resistance is futile… I've tried… especially in the risky choices and following admonishment department."

This is Nick, who has texted earlier that he would be held up at work, standing in the doorway and grinning.

That is not all, however:

There's a sluggishly bleeding cut across his left eyebrow, a dark bruise on his jaw and bloody grazes over the knuckles of his right hand.

„Oh hey, love, you've finally…."

Upon laying eyes on his Grimm any further words die on his lips and his brows draw together in a fearsome scowl!

„Nicholas Burkhardt, what did you do this time?"

„Why do you assume I did anything?"

„Because you've texted 2 hours ago that you would be held up at work and these… (He indicates to Nick's injuries as he inhales deeply through his nose.) smell like they are one hour old _at most_!"

The Grimm opens his mouth to respond but this time Renard's sharp words cut across:

„You better be sitting down, Detective."

If the full brunt of commanding officer's disapproving tone hasn't already done the trick, the Captain's glare certainly does it.

„Oh, can we keep him? One can never have enough ways to keep their Grimmlet brat in line." Monroe murmurs gleefully while he makes his way to fetch his wesen pimped first aid kit.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

„Well, what have you done?"

For a moment Nick looks like he wants to sulk but when finally he meets their eyes there's no sheepishness or pout but only steely determination. Monroe cannot help shivering inwardly. This is his Grimm in full predator mode.

„I have taken care to make Victor's men see that laying hand on any of my friends or loved ones is a very, very bad idea. Rant about me for not telling you beforehand all you like, I understand. But no matter what you say, I won't regret doing this for even a moment! Needless to say, Victor has received my warning."

"Has it been a warning of the kind you've sent the reapers?"

"No, it hasn't been. Some of them could make the way to your dear cousin on their own, the others would have to be carried I imagine."

"Good."

Nick knows this is more than just satisfaction of seeing his tormentors punished. No matter how ruthless the zauberbiest can be, he is glad that Nick hasn't thrown his ethics away. It is as he's said when he's been under the musai's spell: If he had shot an innocent man, Renard wouldn't have been able to help him anymore.

Of course he is aware that his Captain is already setting up his own kind of revenge and ways to ensure everyone's safety, and despite Renard's earlier reproach when he locks eyes with the other man he sees his own predatory side mirrored in the powerful 'biest.

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

"Oww! I happen to like my eyebrow, no need for you to burn it off with disinfectant, you know?"

The mighty Grimm does have an impressive pout, if he sets his mind to it but Monroe seems resistant... at least partway.

"Oh, come on, grimm up. If a certain thickheaded brat thinks it is a good decision to face at least five evil wesen all on his own then he should well be able to take the pain that comes with patching up."

He makes an abortive gesture with the hand holding a sterile swipe but when he begins cleaning again he does so with an expression of besotted exasperation.

Sean for his part hasn't known that a mix of those emotions is even possible and goes for keeping stoic watch in face of this odd, enamored couple.

"Sorry, love. It wasn't my intention to worry you."

This time there's serious regret in Nicks gray eyes. For a moment Monroe lets him stew but in the end his love and relief that there are no overly grave injuries wins out and he leans in to kiss the impossible Grimm with a huff. Only when after some time a throat is ostensibly cleared do they draw apart. Nick actually wipes his mouth, looking sultry and sheepish at the same time.

"Sorry... again."

Renard only raises an eyebrow and lets the ghost of a smirk graze his lips.

"I have heard there is this badass Captain, whose wrath you fear. Just let your mate treat your injuries and I wager you're safe in that regard. And before you ask, trying to resist this blutbad's fussing is futile... and unnecessary. Believe me, I have been there."

While Monroe grumbles lowly about impudent Princes and thickheaded Grimms Nick inclines his head with a smile. He hears what Renard is not saying.

"What can I say, pack is pack."

GRIMM GRIMM GRIMM

Hope this wasn't too chummy. Drawing the line between gen and slash when a couple sleeps in a bed with another man has proved more difficult than I thought. Anyway, writing this was great fun.


End file.
